


Justifiable Homicide

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: A  (very) distant relative by marriage of the Mayor has been killed. Hed insists the case goes to Major Crime





	Justifiable Homicide

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank Pattrose for giving me the idea for this story

Justifiable Homicide

by Bluewolf

_What have I done? What have I done?_

_I didn't mean it - I swear I didn't! But I can't deny... The man is dead._

_Oh, God. Now what do I do? What should I do? What can I do? Whoever investigates this will never believe I didn't mean..._

_Or did I? I was so angry, I didn't stop to think, to consider what I was doing..._

_But that isn't an acceptable excuse. Not to the Law. It'll be called manslaughter at best, murder at worst, and if I'm caught... God, I would never survive in a prison!_

_And there were other ways I could have handled it... one was so obvious... but I was so angry..._

_All right. Think._

_The kid might be able to identify me... maybe.  But she ran as soon as I grabbed the guy. She mightn't even tell her parents._

_If she could identify me, at least everyone would know why I throttled this scum. At least they'd know I had a reason to lose it... But no - I can't assume that the kid will tell anyone. I can't assume that she'd know me again. She was too intent on getting away. She might even have thought I'd... well, take over, carry on with the assault this guy started, not realizing..._

_No; I can't assume anything except that if I'm caught, I'm in deep doodoo._

_Get the hell away from here, buster. You don't know anything. You weren't here today..._

***

"Ellison! Sandburg!"

Jim and Blair looked at each other. There was a note in Simon's voice that said 'you won't like this'. Resignedly, they made their way to Simon's office.

"We have a body," Simon said. "Started off this morning as Homicide's case, but the victim is some kind of second cousin of the mayor's brother's wife, so... "

Blair shook his head. "Does the mayor think Major Crime is here for his personal convenience?"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you," Jim said dryly. "So - " He sighed and turned his attention back to Simon. "All right - where?"

"The body was actually found early this morning," Simon said. "It's taken till now to get it identified - "

"Still fairly quick," Jim commented.

" - and for the Mayor to get involved. It helped that there was a car sitting there, and the vehicle registration provided a name. Grant Symond. Without that, we probably still wouldn't know who it was. Luckily Captain Ainsley is pretty understanding - this sort of bureaucratic interference could cause a lot of bad blood between departments."

"Homicide will have gone over the scene before they allowed the body to be removed, right?" Blair asked.

"Yes - pretty thoroughly - "

"By their standards," Blair said. "Not by Jim's, though. We'll have to go and check it out ourselves before we go home - "

"And Homicide isn't going to be happy that we're doing that - it implies a distrust of their methods," Jim finished.

"Can't be helped," Simon said. "But I'll tell Ainsley that if it was reversed, and they got a case we'd originally had, we'd certainly expect them to do their own check."

***

They started off with a visit to the morgue. Dan Wolf pulled open the drawer with the victim. "I haven't had time yet to do a full examination, but he appears to have been strangled," he said. "The killer used his arm across the front of the throat, so there aren't any fingerprints. But the odd thing - " He turned away from the body, heading for his desk, and lifted a folder, which he gave to Jim.

Jim looked at him for a moment, then opened it. Beside him, Blair drew in a sharp breath.

The folder contained the photos that had been taken at the scene before the body was moved. The top photo clearly showed that the dead man's trousers had been unzipped, and his penis projected through the gap.

"Well," Jim said slowly, "he was either attacked when he was having a pee against the building, or he was maybe getting, or about to get, a blow job from - possibly - his attacker, or someone working with his attacker?"

"Except the motive wasn't theft," Dan said. "His wallet was there, money in it. No credit card, but plenty of money."

***

Cascade had, at one time, been a busy and flourishing port, but over the years ships had become larger and larger until the somewhat restricted approaches to it could no longer handle the traffic and the shipping companies moved away. The port had been turned into a reasonably successful marina, though only the buildings immediately bordering it were used. The rest of the area was to some degree derelict, but some of the buildings were at least still wind and water tight and mostly used for storage by storekeepers who needed a little more space than was available at their shops; Blair had rented one such unit to live in while he was studying the effects of TV violence on Larry the Barbary ape, and the owner hadn't known it was being used for living space - though it wasn't likely that he'd have cared, if he had known.

The murder site was beside one of these units; Symond's body had been found by a small trader going to collect some goods to restock his shelves.

They passed the burned-out remains of Blair's one-time home - still not actually demolished even after more than five years. Blair couldn't help looking at it and mentally comparing his life then with his present life, and knew without doubt which he preferred.

Finally they reached the building where the body had been found. Homicide had checked everything, Forensics had checked everything, so the body had been taken to the morgue where it had finally been identified, the next of kin informed... and the mayor had stepped in.

Crime tape still surrounded the scene, a patrol car was parked nearby although by this time the scene was hardly worth guarding. The chalk outline of the body was clear to see as they drove up.

Jim parked behind the patrol car; they got out and Jim showed the patrol cops his ID.

"Major Crime?" the driver said. "Homicide and Forensics already went over everything."

Jim nodded. "Politics," he said, allowing his voice to sound as disgruntled as, in truth, he felt. "The Powers That Be decided to shift the case to us, goodness only knows why - Homicide is more than able to handle it. But we've been given it now, so we've got to have a look around... "

"Doubt you'll find anything new," the Patrol cop commented.

"We know," Blair said wryly. "But we have to go through the motions. The time that's wasted when a case is shunted from one department to another... usually, like now, totally unnecessarily... " It did no harm to repeat that, knowing that word would get around and eventually reach the ears of the Homicide detectives originally assigned to the case, letting them know that the Major Crime detectives who had replaced them didn't consider themselves 'better', and more likely to solve the case.

They ducked under the crime tape and walked over to the chalked outline where the body had been found.

Everything around it was clean - surprisingly clean, considering where they were, though Blair did remember from his days living in the area that there had never been as much garbage lying around as he would have expected. Perhaps it was because there were some people coming and going pretty well every day, but for some reason the area had never attracted the gangs or the bored teenagers or the drug dealers looking for a quiet area to peddle their poison... apart, of course, from the 357s who had opened up a drug lab next door to him. And wasn't that ironic, considering how many empty warehouses there were in the area despite the number of units used for storage.

Of course, the gang members must have seen his car, and possibly thought that the presence of someone else in the other half of the building would be good camouflage for them, would at least in part cover their use of electricity... And it was just possible that their presence had discouraged the other gangs - at the time; though it didn't explain the current lack of rubbish lying around. The 357s were gone, now - they had survived the loss of their drug lab, but not the death of Tyrell Lang a few months later when an ambitious junior member of the gang killed him, but had proved totally unable to control the gang, which within weeks had fragmented and now existed only as four or five small gangs. The Deuces, too, had failed to survive Antoine Hollins' death; and in the last five years no one gang had risen to the prominence those two had had.

It said a lot, Blair thought, for the efforts of the anti-gang unit, and in particular Earl Gaines, who now commanded it.

Even as Blair considered all that, he shadowed Jim, who was carefully examining everything. Finally Jim shook his head.

"Nothing," he said.

It wasn't unexpected, but both men were somewhat disheartened as they returned to the truck, exchanged a few more words with the cops on duty, and headed back to the PD.

_***_

_All right. I've had time to think, and although I've calmed down a bit I still don't know what I should do._

_I can't just disappear. That would cause more problems than it would solve. I'd be reported missing, there would be a search for me. But if I were to hand in my notice, I'd have to give a reason, even if it was just telling the guys I work with something - at least one of them would be bound to ask - and everyone knows I've lived in Cascade all my life, all my family is here - what reason could I give?_

_And apparently the mayor has an interest in the killing - no, I won't call it murder! I know I over-reacted, but the guy asked for it! - so the case that started off with Homicide has now gone to Major Crime, and the guys there are good. Too good for my good._

_I don't think I left any clues - even though I was in a hurry to get away, I don't think I left any clues... but Ellison has a reputation for finding things nobody else can see, and if he's given the case... Dare I hope it won't be? No - any time a case is shifted to Major Crime it always seems to go to Ellison. Cop of the Year three times in a row, and rumor has it it woulda been four times, only he refused to be considered for it this year, said that three times was enough for anyone and that it was someone else's turn for the honor. He's a good cop, and if it wasn't me he'll be after, I'd be cheering him on._

_But it is me, and... Oh, God, how can I hope that he won't track me down?_

***

Back at the station, Jim and Blair began studying the photos taken at the crime scene. Not that either man thought they'd see anything that wasn't there when they checked the place - it seemed that the killer had checked everything, made sure he didn't leave anything incriminating behind.

"I get the feeling this was a spur of the moment killing," Blair said after a while. "Maybe two guys who knew each other, one said something the other didn't like and reacted violently... "

"I'd agree if it wasn't for that exposed penis," Jim replied.

"Oh, I dunno," Blair said. "You said yourself, the guy could have been peeing against the wall. 'I can pee higher/further than you!' Under normal circumstances that would be a pretty juvenile - well, crack, but if the guy making it added something like 'because my dick is bigger than yours', well, especially if the other guy was sensitive about having a fairly small dick... He could have reacted violently."

Jim thought about that for a moment. Peeing 'competitions' were something he'd encountered in the army, so he knew that the scenario Blair described was a definite possibility; however...

"I didn't smell any piss there," he said. "Even if it had had time to dry, there would still have been a residual smell. Hell, you've been aware of it yourself in back alleys."

Blair sighed. "Yeah," he agreed. "Though in a lot of back alleys there have been dozens of guys peeing, not just one or maybe two. Just tossing out a possibility."

They were so deep in their discussion that neither one paid any attention to the small family that entered the bullpen and stopped at Rhonda's desk.

***

"Detective Ellison?"

There was a slightly tentative note in the voice, and Jim looked up to see a nervous-looking man standing in front of his desk, an almost equally nervous-looking woman beside him. She was holding the hand of a girl who was probably not more than six or, possibly, seven. Jim found it impossible to interpret the expression on the child's face.

"Yes." In the face of the man's obvious apprehension Jim kept his voice quiet and encouraging.

"The lady said you were the one investigating the dead man found near the docks?"

"Me and my partner, yes," Jim said.

"I think... my daughter... " The man broke off, clearly uncertain.

Jim glanced at Blair, whose people skills were so much better.

Blair smiled. "Detective Sandburg," he said. "Call me Blair. And you are?"

"Gene Crompton. This is my wife Ellen, and our daughter is Hazel."

Blair looked at Mrs. Crompton. "Hello," he said, then turned his attention to the child. "Hello, Hazel. That's a beautiful name."

She gave him a very tentative smile. He returned it then looked back at the father. "How can we help you?"

"Yesterday... Hazel got home from school very late. She was upset, crying... we couldn't get a proper story out of her, she just kept saying something about a man grabbing her, taking her somewhere with a lot of big buildings, but then she managed to run away from him. We asked if he had done anything else, and she just shook her head, so... well, rightly or wrongly, we decided to leave it. But this morning, she saw the photo in the paper... the dead man... and she said, 'That's the man'.

"We didn't want to look as if we were making a big thing of it, so we sent her to school as usual, but decided to bring her here after she got home... see if she could tell you anything... You probably know the best way to ask her things?"

Jim and Blair glanced at each other again, and Jim reached for the photos. He selected one that was mostly head and shoulders, and showed it to Hazel. "Hazel?"

She flinched back. "That's the man that grabbed me." She sounded terrified.

"It's all right - he can't hurt you," Blair said. "He can't ever hurt you. Do you know what it means when someone is dead?"

"They... they're not breathing, then someone comes and puts them in a box, then the box is put in a hole in the ground and covered with earth."

Blair nodded. "That's right. We call that burying someone. Well, this man is dead. He'll be buried soon, and he'll never be able to grab you, or anyone else, again."

They needed to ask the child more, but the middle of the bullpen wasn't the best place to do that, and one of the interview rooms wouldn't be much better - not for a child; there was a starkness about the interview rooms that would certainly inhibit an already traumatized child. He stood. "Excuse me a moment," he said and crossed to Simon's office; he knocked and went in.

"Simon, we've got a kid out there we need to question," he said. "She's terrified, and I think your office would possibly be the safest place to question her."

"A kid?"

"You're not going to like this - that oh-so-vague relative of the mayor's? The photos show his pants unzipped? She identified him from his photo as a guy who grabbed her - "

"What?"

"So we need someplace to ask her some more questions. Can we use your office?"

"Yes."

Blair turned back to the door; Simon gathered up some papers, passed him and went out, heading for Blair's desk; Blair followed him. "Mr. Crompton? If you and your wife can just bring Hazel in here?" He turned to lead them into the office, and Jim followed. He was carrying a small recorder.

Inside, Jim pulled Simon's chair to one side and sat there; Blair was aware of Jim murmuring into the recorder and knew he was giving the routine date and who was present. Good - that would make things easier on the child. He motioned Mr. and Mrs. Crompton into the two chairs sitting in front of the desk, then went down onto one knee in front of Hazel, who was leaning against her mother's legs. It took him down to her height.

"All right, Hazel. I'm Blair Sandburg. Nothing's going to hurt you here; your Mom is here, and your Dad, and they'll protect you even if nobody else can. And I'm a cop, and everyone out there - " he nodded towards the door - "is a cop, and we'll protect you too. So it's safe to remember what happened yesterday, and safe to tell us.

"Now - there are one or two things you might think are silly that we need to ask you, but we need to hear you say them. Okay?" When she nodded, he went on, "Will you tell me your full name."

"Hazel Crompton."

"You don't have a middle name?"

"No."

"And how old are you?"

"Six."

Six. In a moment of unaccustomed anger, Blair found himself wishing that the Mayor's brother's wife's cousin was still alive so that _he_ could strangle him. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Now, you said you were grabbed? Can you tell me where?"

She glanced at her mother who nodded encouragingly.

"I usually get the bus home," Hazel said. "But yesterday... the teacher kept my class in for a few minutes after going home time to finish explaining something some of us were having trouble understanding. She even kept in the ones who did understand. I think she maybe didn't want to make it seem like some of us were cleverer than the others. But it meant that I missed my usual bus."

"And were you on your own?"

"Yes. None of my friends get the same bus."

"Were there many people around?"

"No. I didn't see anyone. All the other kids had left, even the ones in my class, because they went the other way, and none of them get a bus. I... I waited at the bus stop for a minute or two, but I knew the next bus didn't come for half an hour, and I live quite near the school, so I decided to start walking."

Blair nodded. "Because you'd get home before the next bus arrived?"

"Yes."

"Right. So what happened next?"

"I hadn't gone far when someone grabbed me from behind, lifted me and pushed me into the back seat of a car, slammed the door shut then ran to the driver's door and got in. I thought I could maybe get out while he was getting in, but I couldn't open the door."

"Some cars have special locks so that the back doors can only be opened from the outside," he said. "It's supposed to keep very young children safe, because it keeps them from accidentally opening the car door while it's moving."

"Oh." She obviously didn't know that.

"So what happened after that?"

"He drove to... I didn't know the place, but there were a lot of big buildings that looked empty - there weren't any cars beside them like there would be if there were people working in them - and after I got away from him I didn't see anyone and it took me ages to get back to somewhere I knew... He got out of the car, and opened the back door and pulled me out. He... he held me with one hand and with the other he unzipped his pants and pulled something out. Pink and nasty-looking, like... like a big slug."

Blair nodded. "I know what you mean. We have people who take photos of crime scenes and some of the photos showed that pink slug-like thing sticking out from his pants. Yes, it does look nasty, doesn't it."

"Do you... do you know what it is?"

Blair glanced up at the parents, noting the horrified look on both faces and knew that Hazel had given him a piece of information she hadn't given them, although they had to have realized why their daughter had been grabbed. "Yes," he said. "It's what a man uses to pee with."

"Oh. But... but if he wanted to pee why didn't he do it before he pulled me out of the car?"

"Good question," Blair said, his voice still very gentle. "I'm not sure, and we can't ask him because he's dead. What happened next?"

"Another man came. He grabbed the first one, pulled him away from me and I just ran as fast as I could to get away."

"I think I'd have done the same," Blair agreed. "Did you get a good look at the second man? Or even enough of a look to let you know him again?"

Hazel shook her head. "I did look back when I reached the corner, to see if the first one had got away in case he followed me - but the second one had his arm round his neck and I couldn't see his face because the first one's head was in the way."

"And then you ran on until you found somewhere you knew so you could get home?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Hazel. You've given us a very clear picture of what happened." He was aware of Jim switching off the recorder as he looked up at Mrs. Crompton. "I don't think we'll need to bother Hazel again. If Mr. Crompton will just stay for a minute you can get Hazel out of here."

"We can wait in the car," she agreed. "Come on, Hazel - we don't need to take up any more of Detective Sandburg's time."

"Thank you again for such a clear description of what happened," Blair said. "I wish some grownups could tell us things as clearly."

She smiled a little nervously. "Bye," she whispered as her mother led her towards the door.

"Bye, Hazel." Blair rose to his feet and turned to Mr. Crompton as the door closed.

"We... we guessed that the guy had rape on his mind," Crompton said shakily, "but we didn't realize how close it had come. The guy that stopped him... we owe him."

"Unfortunately, we still have to look for him, and if we find him, charge him with manslaughter at the very least... and just hope that the jury and the judge agree with you, that he saved your daughter from a very nasty experience." Blair hesitated for a moment. "You have to know - if we do catch him... We might be able to use today's routine recording of this interview as evidence, but the court might insist on having her questioned there even behind a screen or through a video link from another room."

"You... you won't look very hard for him, will you?" It was an obvious plea.

"We do have our job to do, sir, no matter what our personal feelings are," Jim said quietly. "He could have stopped short of actually killing the guy, after all. He could have knocked him out, tied him up somehow and phoned the police. In some ways that would have been worse for the perp; he'd have had a very hard time in prison, and might even have been killed there before he even went to trial."

"On the other hand... you hear about judges who are very lenient in rape cases," Crompton said. "A judge like that mightn't have any sympathy for the man who saved Hazel."

"True," Jim said, "but when the near-victim was a child? Six years old? There's no way a six-year-old is 'asking for it', the way some men - and even some women - seem to think an adult woman is. I'd think any jury would say 'justified homicide', and any judge who didn't agree with that would be given hell by the media.

"As I said, we have our job to do; we have to try to find the killer. But from the evidence we have - that isn't going to be easy. Hazel couldn't give us a description and a search of the area by three different groups - Homicide, Forensics, and Major Crime - found nothing."

"Meanwhile," Blair said, "Hazel is bound to be traumatized by all this. Can I suggest... " He tailed off, not sure how Crompton would take his suggestion.

"If you've thought of something that could help, by all means tell me," Crompton said.

"Karate. Judo. Taekwondo. Any one of the many unarmed martial arts. Even if she only learned the basics, didn't try for an advanced level, she would know she could defend herself if anyone else tried to grab her. And your average pedophile who might try to grab a child off the street is unlikely to expect a child her age to know self-defense... as well as probably having no idea whatsoever how to defend himself."

"That's a brilliant idea!" Crompton said. "Yes... I'll definitely encourage her to do that. Ellen isn't likely to be totally happy about it - she wants Hazel to be... well, feminine, not a tomboy, and she'd certainly see learning a martial art as tomboyish. On the other hand, if I push 'defense against a rapist'... "

"A woman's ability to defend herself doesn't automatically make her any less feminine," Blair said. "Jim, you've met my mother - how would you describe her?"

"Definitely feminine," Jim said, tactfully not adding 'possibly a bit airheaded...'

"Travelling around the way she does, it's better for her to know self-defense. She's a brown belt in several martial arts."

Jim's jaw dropped.

"I know some of the moves in several of the arts, and if I hadn't decided to go to Rainier I'd probably have applied myself to at least one of them. As it was I didn't think I'd need them. But while we were given some training in unarmed combat at the Academy, I have to admit I've started thinking recently of taking some lessons in karate or taekwondo."

"You don't need them," Jim said. "Not when you have a handy vending machine, hose or baseball to use as a weapon." He glanced at Crompton. "You'd be surprised what my partner can use to defend himself. Gun? Yes, he carries one, but he's as likely to throw it at a criminal as fire it."

Crompton looked from Jim to Blair and back, uncertainty in his expression. Blair chuckled. "He's exaggerating, sir. Seriously, though, I do believe in gun control. I don't say I'll never shoot someone - there are certain circumstances where I would - but mostly I try to avoid using a gun. Throwing something is just as effective as a bullet most of the time, and involves a lot less paperwork."

"I believe that," Crompton said. "Anyway, Detective, thanks for your suggestion. Something like karate <i>is</i> something that would give Hazel confidence, and that can only be good."

They walked with him to the bullpen door, noting as they went that Simon moved to reclaim his office. Crompton shook hands with them both, and Blair said, "Let us know how Hazel gets on."

"I will, and thank you again for the suggestion." He headed for the elevators, while Jim and Blair went back to their respective desks.

"You think he's right?" Jim asked. "The killer acted to let Hazel get away?"

"Maybe a father himself, who realized what was in the guy's mind, and simply saw red?"

"It's possible." Jim sighed. "We need to tell Simon... and I don't envy him the job of telling the Mayor that his cousin by marriage was intending rape."

***

_I'm pretty sure that was the kid that went into the PD with a man and woman who are probably her parents, and if I'm right, that means Ellison knows now why I killed the guy... but that won't stop him looking for me._

_I just have to stay calm..._

***

It didn't take long for word about the dead man's intentions towards the child to circulate through the PD. The consensus was that Ellison shouldn't try too hard to find the killer, who had done the city a favor by disposing of a pedophile, though one or two felt that he had been given too easy a death - that it would have been more satisfying if he had been thrown into prison and word leaked to the other inmates about what he had tried to do.

"A six-year-old, dammit!" Chuck Barton of Patrol exclaimed in the break room before he went on duty the next day.

"In a way it's a pity the kid couldn't give a description of the guy who saved her," Todd Lassiter said, "because I, for one, would like to shake his hand!"

At the same time, in Homicide, Drew Morton, one of the pair who had originally been given the case, was saying to his partner, "I just hope Ellison lets the case go cold. But if Ellison has a fault, it's that he's too conscientious. Sometimes you have to look at the motive and decide to come up blank."

"Don't let the Cap hear you saying that," Pete Hope muttered.

"I know," Morton said. "But you feel the same, don't you?"

"If I'm honest, yeah," Hope agreed. "But we're not the judge and jury. Ya gotta let the 'wheels of justice' move. Though at a guess, Sandburg would be happy not to catch the guy."

Morton nodded. "Think you're right... Pete, what do you think of Sandburg?"

"Not sure... He said he'd made up things, but... "

"But Banks pushed to get him into the Academy and Ellison seems happy with him as his partner."

"An' Ellison's not a guy to forgive easily. But why hide what he c'n do?"

"If the bad guys knew... knew for a fact he had that edge... wouldn't they want to get rid of him?"

"You could be right, Drew. Yeah, best to keep it quiet."

***

_Well, Ellison knows now... but he's not a guy to let anything go even when there's a good reason... If they do catch me, maybe I could appeal to Sandburg?_

_Hell, I shoulda thought at the time, insteada just strangling the bastard... There are worse things for a guy that'd rape a kid than just being strangled!_

***

Several days passed. Despite a certain amount of pressure from above, Jim and Blair had to abandon the investigation into the killing - there was absolutely nothing to give them any ideas - and turn their main attention to other cases.

And then one morning about ten days later Gene Crompton came in again, accompanied by his daughter.

Jim looked up, but it was Blair who said cheerfully, "Hello, sir. Hazel, how are you?"

The child glanced at her father, who said, "Go on, Hazel."

She licked her lips. "I... I remembered something else." She was clearly worried that she might get into trouble for not remembering it earlier.

Blair simply nodded. "That happens sometimes," he said. "It's why the police sometimes keep asking people the same questions but in different words - they hope that'll help someone remember something more, something that they've forgotten. So what did you remember?"

"The man who came... he was wearing a police uniform."

Behind him, Blair heard Jim gasp.

"You're sure it was a police uniform, not just something that looked like one?"

"Yes. A policeman came to the school yesterday, gave us a talk on road safety. That was when I remembered... "

"That's a big help, Hazel. Thank you."

"And... Dad told me you said about me taking lessons in karate. I've just joined a class. I think I'll like it."

"My Mom is good at karate - it makes her feel safer when she travels, knowing she can defend herself."

"Yes," Hazel said. "I've only had one lesson, but it's making me feel safer already. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Hazel." Blair glanced at the father. "Thanks, Mr. Crompton."

"This makes it more likely that you'll find him, doesn't it." Crompton didn't sound too happy about that.

"It makes it more likely than it was," Blair murmured. "And we still have our job to do." He allowed Crompton to see the reluctance on his face.

Crompton nodded, took Hazel's hand and led her out.

"A cop," Blair muttered.

"And if we find and arrest him, guess how popular we'll be," Jim replied.

"I'd guess he knows how much everyone is on his side," Blair said.

"Yes... " Jim sounded thoughtful.

"What?"

"I've been noticing... "

"Yes?"

"There's one of the patrol cops - I've noticed him two or three times this past week or so... I'm aware of his heartbeat speeding up any time he sees us."

"You think it might be him? That he knows we're investigating, and he knows your reputation?"

"Our reputation, Chief. Yes, I was good before you came along, but I'm a lot better now you're with me. And that improvement is all thanks to you, Chief."

Blair flushed slightly, and Jim chuckled. "I told you once before - self-deprecation doesn't suit you. You can think outside the box in a way I never could."

Blair was silent for some moments. "So after what Hazel said, you think this patrol cop could be the one...?"

"It's possible. Something is making his heart do a fandango any time he sees us. He's got a guilty conscience about something, and I doubt that he's keeping some low-life informed about us. I got the chance to ask one of the other uniforms about him a couple of days ago, and got his name. The guy's got a reputation for helping people - apparently he's helped several youngsters, boys as well as girls, who are new on the streets to pull themselves together, find a home and a job before they're trapped into drugs - or prostitution. A guy like that, seeing a young girl in danger of being raped, well - "

"Could easily react violently - though why didn't he just arrest the guy? He has to know that once word of why he'd been arrested got around the prison, that... that apparently respectable new prisoner was a child predator... hell would be easier on the guy."

"I know, Chief. Obviously something made him forget restraint." Jim was turning towards Rhonda as he spoke. "Rhonda - "

"Yes?"

"Would you contact Patrol, and tell them that we'd like a word with Officer Maitland when he's available? I know he's probably out at the moment."

"If they ask why?"

Jim frowned slightly. "We've heard that he's into helping runaways get off the street."

Rhonda looked at him, clearly not totally believing that.

"Seriously, Rhonda."

"Okay."

***

_Oh, God! Ellison wants to see me! That has to mean... No. Take a deep breath. Try to relax. The message said 'helping runaways', and I do... I can't help them all, some are too scared to trust anyone, but... Just think about that. Don't think about..._

***

Maitland looked at the secretary who had just given him the message.

"Could be they want help to get someone specific off the street," she said.

"Yeah, could be," he agreed. "But a department like Major Crime doesn't usually look for help from a mere uniform."

"Anyway, there's nothing stopping you from popping up there now - Captain Howell isn't likely to want you in the immediate future, and if he does I know where you are. But you're really just doing busy work while Zeke's off with flu."

Maitland nodded reluctantly, turned and headed for the elevator. There was no escape...

He walked into Major Crime and paused just inside the door. He took a steadying breath and walked to the desk that had to be the secretary's.

"Officer Maitland," he said. "I understand Detective Ellison wants to see me."

"Yes, Officer." The male voice behind him made Maitland jump. He looked round.

Two men - the men he knew were Ellison and Sandburg - stood behind him.

"I think we want some privacy for this," Ellison went on. "Come on - there's a conference room free." He turned towards the door, and Sandburg quietly moved to behind Maitland.

***

_I'm screwed! Sandburg looks more sympathetic, but Ellison's the senior, and his rep... Why didn't I just shoot the bastard? I could have explained that!_

***

In the conference room, Jim quietly waved Maitland to a seat. Blair took the seat opposite the patrol officer and Jim pushed a chair to beside the door and settled into it, aware that the move was puzzling Maitland.

Blair looked at the uniformed cop. "Detectives get pretty good at reading body language," he said quietly. "We've noticed that you were tending to look nervous any time you saw us, and we wondered why. And then today... The child who was nearly raped a few days ago remembered a detail she'd forgotten - she remembered that her rescuer was wearing a police uniform. And between the nervous way you looked at us, and what we'd heard about you helping runaways to stay off the street... well, it gave us reason to suspect it was you. What we don't know, though, is why. Why you throttled him instead of arresting him."

Maitland swallowed. "Afterwards... I realized I should have shot him rather than throttling him. I could have claimed that he was resisting arrest... But I just lost my head... "

"Why did you lose it?" Blair's voice was very gentle.

"Fourteen years ago... " Maitland's voice broke. After a minute, he managed, "The... the p-papers called him... the Beachcomber. He... he... " His voice broke again, and he swiped at wet eyes.

Blair glanced at Jim, who nodded at the door.

"I'll be back in a minute," Blair said, and left the room. He ran to Major Crime and over to Rhonda.

"Rhonda - can you dig up info from fourteen years ago on someone the papers called the Beachcomber, and bring it to Conference Room 2."

Rhonda stiffened. "Don't need to. I remember the case. The guy was a pedophile - and a serial killer. Over a period of about three months he raped and killed eight girls before he was caught. The oldest was ten. They called him 'Beachcomber' because his first victims were found on the shore - and it was known that they had gone there the day they were found dead, but some of the later ones hadn't meant to go anywhere near there - though their bodies were found there. He didn't even try to hide the bodies."

"What happened to him, do you know?"

"Executed."

"Thanks, Rhonda."

Blair hurried back to the conference room. As he entered, he glanced at Jim, who nodded, and Blair knew that he had listened.

Returning to Maitland, who was still making a determined effort at controlling himself, Blair said quietly, "Who died - fourteen years ago?"

"My... my youngest sister. She was eight." Maitland took several deep breaths. "It was why I joined the police. To try... " His voice broke again.

"Whether Symond was a serial rapist or not, we don't know; if he was, he wasn't a killer, unless he hid the bodies, because we haven't been finding dead rape victims. But targeting a six-year-old... "

"It was sheer chance... but when I saw him... and the kid reminded me a little of Ellie... "

"Your sister?" Blair asked gently.

"Yes, I couldn't help Ellie - I was just seventeen, still at school - but I could help this kid. And then... "

"In your mind she was Ellie and it was what you'd wanted to do to the Beachcomber?"

"Yes." Maitland gave a sobbing sigh. "It was only after he was dead that I remembered... Ellie died fourteen years ago, I'm a cop now and I should have arrested this bastard. For what it's worth - I'm sorry."

"It's why you help runaways, isn't it," Jim said quietly. "All part of what you couldn't do as a teenager, fourteen years ago."

"Yes. Kids don't run away from home without a good reason, and a lot have been abused by a family member - wouldn't be the first one who said to me that if she was going to be used sexually by someone she'd expect him to pay to do it. But they mostly don't realize that if they're trapped by a pimp - and they would be - they'd be forced to hand over a lot of that money to him. Better to get them off the street."

"From what we heard, you've done a lot of good that way," Jim said.

"I've tried," Maitland murmured.

Jim and Blair looked at each other again. "All right," Blair said quietly. "You do a lot of good work for abused youngsters, and from what you've said you plan on continuing that. This may or may not have been the first time Grant Symond assaulted a child - though he seemed a little old to have been a first-time offender - but if he wasn't, if he'd done it before and got away with it, the only thing we can say in his favor is that he wasn't a killer. Now - Hazel couldn't actually identify you, her parents certainly don't want the man who saved their daughter caught, and we can totally understand why you reacted the way you did.

"Hazel's first statement is on record; her second, when she told us her rescuer was wearing a police uniform, isn't." Blair was silent for a moment, before going on. "You have to know what a lot of your fellow cops are saying about this."

"Yes... but you and Detective Ellison... "

"Aren't infallible. And we're perfectly able to turn a blind eye if we feel circumstances justify it. Yes, we could arrest you. Because you're a cop, IA would get involved. Given the circumstances, IA might or might not decide to take the case to trial, but the mayor can't influence a jury - "

"The... the mayor?"

"Symond was some sort of distant relative through marriage." Blair shrugged. "Without that, I doubt anybody would even be investigating it. Homicide would have been given the case, but nobody would consider it worth wasting time on - they'd have to go through the motions, but it would go cold very fast."

"We can understand your reaction," Jim said. "We can sympathize with it. So - especially when we consider the work you're doing to help get youngsters off the street - as Sandburg says, we're prepared to turn a blind eye. This time. If something like this happens again, arrest the perp."

Maitland's jaw dropped. "You... I... Thank you. And I promise I won't tell anyone what you've done."

"Now - we do have to give an explanation for why we wanted to see you; something that you can tell your Captain, if he asks."

"You did tell Sherry - our secretary - that you wanted to see me in relation to the work I do with the runaways."

"Yes - but why? Why were we interested in that?" Jim asked.

Blair looked thoughtfully at Maitland. "How fast can you get those youngsters off the street?"

"It varies," Maitland said. "Sometimes they seem to feel that everyone wants to use them, and they're reluctant to accept help."

"If they were offered a job that they could see was legitimate, even for a wage that was mostly just food and a bed?"

"Where could they get that?"

"I do voluntary work at the 23rd Street Mission," Blair said. "They can always use a few extra hands to clean the place... The Mission would give street kids a bed and food, a wage of a few dollars, if they would do that work, and it would give you time to work on them, persuade them that you do want to help them. And that's why we wanted to see you - to suggest that."

"I never thought of any of the Missions as a possibility," Maitland said. "Yes - if they would do that, it would help a lot."

"I don't know about any of the others but the 23rd Street one would certainly be willing to help you," Blair said. "I'll stop on my way home tonight and have a word with them about it, let you know tomorrow what they say."

"Thank you."

They watched him leave, then went back to Major Crime. "What'll we tell Simon?" Blair asked.

"That we can't find anything," Jim said. "It's not fair to put Simon in the position of having to keep quiet about this as well as the sentinel stuff. If the Mayor doesn't like it, tough - but if he says anything, we push a photo with that exposed penis at him. That should shut him up."

"Seems the wisest move," Blair agreed. "And if Simon asks about Maitland?"

"What Maitland will tell his Captain. That we found out about him helping runaways and offered him a little help."

"Right. And you know - I don't think Simon will be too worried that this case is going cold."

"It'll affect the statistics for our solve rates," Jim pointed out.

"So? I think we can afford that."

"Yes," Jim replied. "I think we can."


End file.
